Category: Sikkim

When we had to say our goodbyes to the Sherpas, I thought it was would be a polite goodbye. Similar to like how our goodbyes was with the Limboo family. We were all packed when Jamuna asked us to wait for five minutes. We didn’t mind, the sun was out, the garden was in full bloom, we used the time to do some sunbathing. God knows we needed it.

Jamuna came bumbling from around the corner holding two silk scarves, khatas, usually given during special occasions or during the arrival or departure of guests. She put it around our necks, wished us a safe and happy journey, she told us to take care of each other and keep loving each other even when the times got tough and asked us to keep in touch with Pema and her.

I am generally not one for hugging and sentimentality but at that moment, I was so full emotion, I immediately wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug. She patted my back and with a wide smile, she said, “Take care, see you soon, nameste.”

And so, we were in our car and on our way out of Sikkim.

Thank you Sikkim, thank you for everything. Thank you for your people, your food, your water, your land, your mountains, your air, your sunshine, your peace. As soon we were out of Sikkim, we wanted to turn back. But, there were places to see, more adventures to go on, more stories to live. We couldn’t get so attached to a place.

But one thing we were sure of, though we had to leave Sikkim, we didn’t have to leave the mountains behind. So, we made our way to Uttrakhand – the land of the Gods.

Sikkim – in pictures.

Pema Sherpa surprised us by inviting us to his relative’s wedding in his village. That was one of the most endearing qualities of Pema, he never missed an opportunity to show off his heritage. Whether it was the land, the mountains or the people. He wanted to help us have a real Sikkim experience.

He drove us to his village, a little further away from Utteray. A small village called Bhaega. When we entered the venue, everyone welcomed us like we were a part of the community. The entire village was present to bless the bride and groom and shower them with love and gifts. The rituals were about to begin but the celebrations had already begun. The kids were running everywhere, stuffing their face with snacks and the adults were busy sharing laughter and beer. The bride and the groom were still getting ready. The lamas (monks) had taken their place, the elders of the family were filing in and taking their seats on the floor.

The wedding was intimate and quieter than any other wedding Naveen and I had ever attended.

The rituals began once the groom and bride were seated among the lamas and elders. The groom’s relatives, on behalf of the groom and in presence of the monks would ask the girl’s family for her hand in marriage. And once the girl’s family gives their blessings, the girl is considered to be a part of the groom’s family from that moment on.

It’s followed by traditional singing and dancing and a big case of thongba is passed around for everyone to sip from, starting from the lamas then to the elders and then to the rest of the family.

Once the rituals are done, there is beer, good food and socializing that happens and then the entire gathering sends the bride with the groom in good spirits.

Naveen and I were lucky enough to be a part of this special ceremony and everyone present made us feel welcomed. They were excited to know where we were from, what we were doing, what brought us to Sikkim, where we were off to next. They wanted to know how the weddings were from where we came and Naveen pointed out that their wedding ceremony was very similar to a Coorgi wedding. Coorg, a small district in Karnataka, is a good 3,000kms away from Utteray and yet their rituals and traditions were so alike. Coorg, down in South India and Utteray, way up in North India – amazing, isn’t it? So far apart but yet, not really.

Pema had to attend another wedding so we took everyone’s leave and headed back to our homestay. Happy and maybe, slightly inebriated.

Another cold day in Sikkim. And a perfect day for a walk in the woods to a nearby waterfalls, Mainebass waterfalls. Like Pema and Jamuna had promised, they joined us too. They were more excited than Naveen and I to go on this trek, they were so excited to show us what was ahead, what their homeland had to offer and they eagerly wanted to show off how beautiful their it all was. It was a short trek, about 4 kms to the waterfall. It wasn’t a difficult walk, though it was uphill. We walked along canals of water gushing past us, the soil and the rocks underneath our feet were wet and slippery and we were surrounded by lush greens.

On the way to the waterfall, there is a camping spot. A large flat, grassland amidst all the greens, where you can set up a bonfire and tents and enjoy the view of the looming mountains all around you. Just before we reached the waterfall, we had to cross the most enchanting place. A path with a canopy of trees, just the green of the trees and the brown of the soil everywhere you look. Like, Alice’s wonderland but even better.

Naveen and I took our time, enjoying the route, taking time for the sights to sink into our hearts while Pema and Jamuna hurried along the path, light on their feet. It was probably habitual for them to be among these gentle giants, the trees and the mountains. But still, there was a moment, when the both of them stopped, sighed and looked around with awe and took it all in. That told us that no matter how many ever times you cross the same path with the mountains and the forests, they always teach you something. Something. When we reached the tall, gushing waterfall, the sky was covering up with dark clouds and there were chances of rain. But since we were so high up, it was hail – freezing rain. We spent maybe about half an hour by the waterfall, I took the opportunity to fill up my water bottle with the clear water and sip on it. Cool, refreshing, light, fresh waters from the mountains. I know they say water is tasteless, but it was delicious. There is no better beverage than water, after all it is the creator of life.

Soon, it started to hail heavily, so we decided to head back, the path was going to be even more slippery and chances of falling were high. (I didn’t the rains to make me slip, I had already slipped and landed on my bum as I made my way to fill my water bottle.) On our way back, Jamuna stopped and pointed to some plants just growing along the path. “Yeh BP or sugar ke liye bahut acche hai. Mei banau?” (“They are good for BP and sugar. I’ll cook them?”) And without waiting for an answer, Pema and her squatted and started plucking them out of the ground. That’s when I realized that most of these plants, growing at the foot of the mountains are high in the medicinal value and no wonder the people of the mountain are so healthy fit. Everything they get, from the water to the fertile soil to the herbs and plants are all right there for them. Just being provided by the mighty mountains.

I was a lot better at this trek. Totally, we had covered about 8kms and my spirits were still high. My stamina had improved in the matter of a couple of days. And though, I took my time walking, I wasn’t out of breath, my body wasn’t sore and I was feeling good. Naveen, of course, was even better. Pema and Jamuna looked like they had just gone for a stroll in a park.

This is what I found to be the best part of living by the mountains. There is a wonderful harmony between man and nature. The people are grateful for everything that the mountains provide them with, they know the value of the soil they work on, the water they drink. They value the warm sunshine, they value daytime and they work hard, day in and night out and they enjoy it. There is genuine happiness on their faces as they spend their time on their farms, reaping, sowing and harvesting and not an ounce of complaint. From the bottom of my heart, I hope that they aren’t bored with it, that they aren’t bored with mountains and they don’t crave for the city life that Naveen and I are trying so hard to get away from. There is peace here, there is happiness without reason or condition. Isn’t that what we city folk are always looking for? Then, why is it so difficult for us to leave it all behind and make a living away from it? Is it because in the cities we can be lazy while having it easy? Is it because the WiFi connection is stronger? Is that the good life? And though we have everything we want living in the city, we are so full of whine and complaint?

The next day, along with some yummy aloo paratha and sabzi, we bid farewell to the Limboo family. It wasn’t a tearful or heavy goodbye. It was simple, to the point and very polite. Just like our stay there. We were guests in their home but their hospitality never made us feel so. If you ever decide to visit Yuksom, even if you are just passing by, choosing to stay at the Limboo’s will be the best decision you can make.

They are a warm, welcoming family who will take care of you to their best effort. The stay is warm and comfortable and their food, dear Lord, their food! Everything they serve is organic and grown in their farm, next to their homestay. It’s fresh, healthy and you will keep wanting more and more of it, even though your stomach is bursting.

They wished us a safe and happy journey, as a parting gift we decided to present them with kadlekaai unddes (laddoos made from peanuts and jaggery) that Naveen’s mother had packed for us. They had shown us such love, we wanted to give them something out of love as well.

Our next stop was Utteray. a small town west of Sikkim. It was going to be a four hour drive from Yuksom. Filled with happiness and a full stomach, we started our drive there. The day was pleasant and sunny and the drive was easy. While we were about twenty minutes away from the town, we decided to call Sherpa homestay and see if we could check in with them.

And that’s the first time we spoke to Pema Sherpa. Pema Sherpa who helped us discover Sikkim in a whole new way. But, more of that later.

By the time we reached Utteray, it was around four in the evening and we were feeling hungry. So here’s the thing about small towns, it’s difficult to get hold of a place that will serve you food during odd hours. (Odd hours being the time in between lunch and tea time, this we experienced not only in Utteray but Yuksom too. To our good luck, in Yuksom, we found a certain Mr. Gupta from Bihar who had set up his restaurant in the little town. Off season or peak season, you can always find Mr Gupta’s restaurant serving hot chai or cool local beer.)

We reached our homestay and though Pema wasn’t around to receive us, he had had made sure our room was ready and Tashi, a handy man and a trek guide for the Sherpas, was there to welcome us.

When we asked Tashi for food – he looked at us quizzically. “Noodles chalega?” (“Will noodles do?“) He asked, scratching the back of his head, hoping we’d be okay with it. We were hungry and we were going to be okay with anything, honestly.

We settled into our room, admired the view outside and gulped down the two bowls of noodles Tashi had served. I was still hungry and a hungry me isn’t really nice to be around. I get all sorts of upset, angry, cranky, whiny and Naveen handles all of those moods with patience and calmness.

We took out our car and decided to go hunting for food. One of the main attractions of Utteray is the Singshore bridge. It is the second highest bridge in all of Asia and it connects two hills and helps trekkers cover a large distance in a short span of time. Due to an accident that had occurred, the bridge was shut for all vehicles. But we still got the chance to walk across it and peek down at the valley, 300m below us.

Also, it’s a tourist attraction and we were sure we were going to find something to eat there. I prayed we would find something there.

We walked across the bridge, peeking over to view the deep valley, when we reached a small eatery. The kind lady who ran the place told us that at the moment we could only get momos and chai. I was up for it. It was a cozy little place, made warm by the yellow light and the lady working in the kitchen. We were welcomed by a few locals who were already seated inside, sipping on thongba.

Thongba is a drink made out of millet mixed with warm water. Something like beer.
I know, when I heard about “warm beer” for the first time, I told myself, wow thats nuts. But it’s nothing like you’d imagine it to be. It’s like freshly brewed beer, but there is no God awful bitterness or fizziness to it. It’s fresh and warm and perfect for the cold weather. Don’t knock it till you try it, I say.

We made friends with some of the locals there who were surprised and shocked that we had driven all the way from Bangalore to here and that we were going to drive around everywhere. We spent some time there, filling our stomachs and hearts before we decided to make our back to our stay.

When we reached the homestay, we were greeted by Pema who was more than excited to help us plan our next few days. He said we could walk up to a nearby waterfall for starters and then see how things pan out. He was ready to give us company on the trek since he didn’t have much on his plate. A little while later, we were greeted by his wife, Jamuna Sherpa. A chubby, bubbly woman with laughter on her sleeve who was excited just to meet us. She served us warm tea and traditional snacks and told us that she too would be joining us for the walk to the waterfall.

We couldn’t wait to see what the next few days had in store for us with the Sherpa family.

P.S. In case, you ever decide to make a trip to Yuksom. Call up the Limboo family (097330 84983) and treat yourself!

Our second morning in the peaceful town and we were greeted with a shining sun. I have no words to explain the feeling of happiness and warmth I felt when I saw the clear sky and the shining sun. The weather was still icy and the air, cool but the sun being out made us forget the cold. And the mountains. Oh my God, the snow-capped mountains, standing in the sunshine spotlight. Magnificent.

A hearty breakfast and a brave shower later, Naveen and I were rushing out of the house to catch some sunshine on our face. We weren’t the only ones with the idea, the whole town was out sunbathing.

We decided it was a good day to go out for a trek.

Yuksom is the base point for one of the most famous treks – in the world, in fact. It’s a short high altitude five day trek and you reach an altitude of 13,778 feet, with breathtaking views.

As exciting as it sounded, we weren’t equipped for the trek and it wasn’t the season. The weather was unfavourable. The view wouldn’t be that great. But we could easily trek up to 2 kilometers, up to the first base and the trek uphill after that would start getting difficult. All of this, we were told by the local forest ranger, D. T Lepcha.

So, we packed the bare minimums for ourselves, a couple of water bottles, some candies and our equipment and off we went, on an adventure.

The entry to the forest is through a small community of settlers, nearly everyone we met on the path greeted us with a bright smile and a hearty, hello, good morning. Did the clear skies and warm sunshine put everyone in a good mood? Or was it just that the locals were just friendly and nice? Definitely the latter.

By fifteen minutes into the trek, we were away from people and it was just the forest, the open skies and us.

This was my first trek and Naveen’s 200th (or something!) So you can imagine the difference in stamina. While I was huffing and puffing, stopping every ten minutes to catch my breath and rest my legs, Naveen was almost weightless. Carrying a bag, a camera and a tripod like they were leaves and cotton and prancing up the hill.

Each time we paused (and we paused for quite a bit) we were hit with amazing views and why wouldn’t we be? We were surrounded by the hills and forests for as far as the eye could see. Long shoots of bamboos, bright coloured flowers, birds singing from everywhere – anywhere you looked, it was a picture worthy of framing and hanging. It was all worth the breath I was losing and the sweat I was breaking. It’s always worth it.

About an hour into the trek, we reached the first base point. A bridge over a waterfall. I think I was feeling sore all over but I don’t remember. All I can recall is the beautiful waterfall, gushing through the valley and making its way down. Have you ever noticed how wonderful mother nature’s color palate is? What a wonderful artist she is.

I sat by the waterfall and felt peace and also felt like the main character in a movie, going through a life changing moment. And the sound of the water gushing for miles was my background music. It was soothing and quiet and I must have sat there like a statue for nearly twenty minutes and I would have sat for longer if Naveen hadn’t asked to move on.

Like Mr D. T. Lepcha had warned us, the path started to get trickier and sometimes it was only wide enough to go in single file. The scary part is, if you lose your footing, there are chances of you slipping and falling straight down. One way fall to the end or some major, life threatening injuries – more realistically speaking. Which is worse because death is final but ending up as a vegetable is not. But mind the soil and the rocks under your foot, be aware of your footing, walk slowly and you’re good.

There is next to zero human litter through the trek path and you rarely meet anyone – and yet, somehow, we managed to run into some locals who were herding yaks through the damn path! As though they were taking a walk in a damn park.

A little more than a kilometer on the steep trek and I had to stop. Naveen, without doubt, could have gone further and I really wanted to go ahead, I wanted to push myself further, just to see the next view point. But you’ve got to know when to stop. It’s better to turn around than black out in the middle of nowhere.

The walk back was comparatively easy and faster, only because it was mostly downhill. We stopped at the waterfall again, felt the same kind of peace all over again. Even though my feet were throbbing in my shoes, I knew I could and would do this all over again.

As we reached civilization again, Naveen and I were tired, hungry and so happy. Our bodies were sore and craving for food and rest, but we couldn’t wipe the silly grins off our faces. I felt victorious, though it was a small trek. We walked for nearly five kilometers up and down and I was still standing. I felt proud of myself as I stood at the end of the trek, toes paining and full of life. I could and would definitely do this all over again.

I sincerely looked forward to taking a hot shower, change into a fresh pair of clothes, eating some good, filling food and sleeping the good slumber.

Our first day at Yuksom began quite late. Perhaps it was from all the traveling we did from the previous night that wore us out. We woke up to a refreshing 5 degree celsius morning air knocking on our windows. I don’t remember ever feeling that kind of cold; it was so cold I could feel my insides shaking, even the still air felt like ice on my skin. We bundled ourselves with several sweaters, gloves, socks and beanies and headed for breakfast. Rani Limboo met us with a bright smile and her palms pressed together in greeting. “Hello, namaste, good morning. Aap breakfast karoge?” (“Hello, namaste, good morning. Will the both of you have breakfast?”) I stared in shock as I saw Rani and her girls going about their daily work wearing only one woolen sweater. It’s obvious that they were used to the weather, Yuksom being at 5,000 feet elevation, the 5 degrees was more like a normal winter morning for the locals. “Hum ko aadat hai.” (“We are used to it.”) everyone we met told us, when they saw shivering in spite of all those layers.After breakfast, we headed towards the Khecheopalri Lake. It is about an hour’s drive away from Yuksom town but we took our time getting there, stopping every ten minutes to admire the view. It felt heavenly because Naveen and I were the only ones there.

At that moment it was just us and the beautiful mountains covered with dense pine forests.

When we reached the lake, much to our displeasure, we weren’t the only ones there. We were met with a swamp of tourists, either getting ready to enter the lake or just hanging out by the small souvenir shops. But no matter the number of people you are surrounded by, you will find peace at the lake. Khecheopalri Lake is a lake of many myths and legends and so, it is considered to be a sacred lake by the locals of the place. Once you pay a nominal entry fee, it is a long winding road to the lake and along the path, you will find prayer flags tied to the trees and prayer stones stacked up one on top of another. But it’s not just that, you will feel it, in your mind, in your heart, in your breath. Calmness that surprises you like a cool breeze.

The lake sits surrounded by the mountains and prayer wheels. Tourists have the option of entering a sacred prayer room and lighting a candle as a prayer offering or simply just take off their footwear and walk up to the lake and feel the good energy in the air. The prayers offered there hangs on every flag that is tied to the lake, it circles with every prayer wheel that is spun, it’s dissolved into the very air with every candle that is lit. There is nothing but a sense of hopeful thoughts and peace in the air and on your mind.

We stayed there till the sky started getting dark and even as we walked away from the lake, we carried with us a sense of irreplaceable zen. We reached Yuksom a little before seven and as expected, everyone in the town was packing up their shops and stores and calling it a day. We retired to the Limboo’s and enjoyed a quiet, home cooked dinner. We wanted to hit the sack as early as possible seeing how the following day we had planned to go for a trek up the mountains, venturing into thick forests.

We drove to Gangtok but we found it to be no different than any other city except, traffic rules were followed with discipline. And maybe that’s because the roads are narrow and yet the city had managed to turn them into two way roads. Naveen, being so used to Bangalore traffic, used the honk once or twice on the main roads and soon enough, we were approached by a nearby traffic officer. Firmly but kindly, he informed us, “Aap honk kyun use kar rahe ho? Gangtok mei no honking, okay?” (“Why are you using the honk? Honking isn’t allowed in Gangtok”)

We felt like kids being reprimanded by a school teacher.

I had visited Gangtok about four years ago with my college. As a college kid, I was more interested in the city in itself, I was so happy visiting the local watering hole for a hot bowl of thupka, some beer and strolling around the marketplace. This time, however, I didn’t care much for the city. Our hearts craved for something else.

Couped up in our hotel room, we opened up our maps and looked for places to drive to. In our heart of hearts, we wanted to be closer to the mountains and the nearest place we could find was a small town, Yuksom. Sikkim’s original capital in 1641 AD.

We did our homework, packed our bags and just like how we had entered Gangtok city, we left it – in a flash.

Our journey to Yuksom was a tiring one. If you know Google maps, you know she always routes the shortest way to your destination. And so, we were stuck driving on the back road to Yuksom. The roads were struck by landslides and they were so rough and undone, our car – nicknamed Zeus, groaned with every bump and every stone. And it didn’t help that the temperature kept dropping with every turn uphill. And all this to save ourselves an extra hour on the road. Which, by the way, wasn’t even the case, the four hour route took us nearly six hours to reach. Thanks but no thanks, Google.

By the time we reached Yuksom, it was well past ten at night. Thankfully, we had eaten our dinner on the way, had we been hungry when we reached, we would have found nothing because the town was deep in sleep. We later found out that by eight, the town wraps up for the day.

Our hosts, the Limboo family were graciously waiting for us and welcomed us into their warm home with a flask of hot water and cozy room.